


Mass Effect: Universal Outcasts

by Gyvon



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Warhammer 40.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyvon/pseuds/Gyvon
Summary: Shepard's mission to stop the Collectors had only just begun when she receives a strange distress call.  She directs the Normandy to an uninhabited planet, where she finds four strange people, people not even from her universe, but from somewhere else. Somewhere far more hostile than her universe.  A universe where something like the reaper threat has another name; Tuesday.





	Mass Effect: Universal Outcasts

**Chapter 1**

**957M41**

**Uncharted System: Koronus Expanse**

**Aboard Rogue Trader Vessel** _**Fortune and Glory** _

Sister Veronica stepped quickly out of the central lift. Her power-armored boots echoed through the cavernous corridor with every footstep. Her pace quickened as she swore under her breath. She had, once again, gotten lost in the ship's labyrinthine halls, and was running late to a very important meeting. Checking her chronometer, she belted out a word that would've earned a wallop from the Canoness before breaking out into a sprint.

The few crewmen she ran into quickly got out of the way. One did not dare hinder a Sister of Battle's passage if they knew what was good for them. Especially one that was decked out in silvered armor. A few of the braver crew did shout out a warning for her to slow down. Only the servitors, being near-mindless automatons, proved to be an obstacle.

But, despite everything in her way, Veronica made it to the Officers' conference room. With ten seconds to spare no less. After pausing a few seconds to catch her breath and, it's gotta be said, do a celebratory fist pump, she approached the door, praying that this was actually the right room and her victory celebration wasn't premature. Again. Sensors hidden in the floor detected her arrival and, with a pneumatic hiss, the door slid open.

Veronica breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that it was the correct room. Fine marble statues of saints and heroes stood in recessed alcoves along the walls. Tapestries of the finest silk hung from the ceiling along the outer perimeter, the red-dyed fabric giving the room a warm, inviting feel. The conference table in the center was carved from a wood Veronica couldn't identify, and was covered with yet another red cloth. On the opposite side from the door, a massive window took up the entire wall.

She was not alone, either. There were two other people waiting for her. Veronica felt considerable relief that she wasn't the last one to arrive. There was still one more person yet to appear.

Leaning against one of the tapestries was a giant of a man. Nearly three meters tall and almost half as wide, it was hard to mistake him for anything besides a Space Marine. Even though he was wearing plain robes and not his armor, it was clear that he was one of the Emperor's Angels of Death. As Veronica walked inside, he didn't react. The Marine just leaned there, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring into the distance.

Despite feeling awe at being in the presence of one such as he, Veronica put the Astarte out of her mind and turned her attention to the other man in the room. He was standing at the far side of the room, looking out the window with his arms clasped behind his back. His burgundy greatcoat was immaculate, with golden epaulets polished to a mirror sheen. His hair was a dark black, with only a few strands of gray.

He was the most dangerous man in the room, even counting the Space Marine. The man was, at first glance, a Rogue Trader. He presented himself as a dashing rogue, to those he met, but that was only a disguise. Just below the surface, he was something far more.

An Inquisitor.

The man turned his head slightly, giving Veronica a look from his ice-blue eyes. "Ah, Sister," he said. "Right on time."

At the sound of his voice, Veronica stood ramrod straight. "Present and accounted for, Lord Stark."

That earned a chuckle from the Inquisitor. "Please, Sister, at ease," he said, "There is no need to stand on such formalities here. Have a seat while we wait for our fourth."

Veronica let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed. If she had glanced at the Marine she might've seen a hint of amusement from him. Having nothing better to do, she stepped towards an empty chair and sat down.

No sooner than Veronica made herself comfortable, the door hissed open again. The smell hit her first; a unique combination of synthetic lubricant and disinfectant. When she turned her head, Veronica was not surprised to see a red robed Tech-priest standing in the doorway. Said robes covered his entire body, leaving only his unaugmented chin and mouth uncovered, although a pair of red lights shone under his hood in the approximate location of his eyes.

He was also carrying a rather sizable, olive-drab painted plasteel crate. It was no different than the countless ones like it found in any Astra Militarum regimental camp. If one looked closely, one might even see where the regimental markings were carefully scraped away.

"You're late," Stark said without turning away from the window.

"My apologies, sir," the Tech-priest replied. His voice was rough, but without the telltale whine and crackle of a vocoder so common amongst the Mechanicus. "One of the servitors misplaced our cargo. It took longer than expected to-" He did a double take when he spotted Veronica, and continued to stare.

"Can I... help you?" Veronica asked, a little creeped out. In her experience it was never a good thing when a Tech-Priest pays you more than a passing glance. It usually meant they were planning to run borderline-heretical experiments on you.

"Your hair..." the Priest said, continuing to stare.

Veronica cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, what about it?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to see where this went.

"It's... it's-"

"Pink," the Marine grunted.

Indeed it was. Sister Veronica's bob-cut hair had been dyed a bright, almost neon pink. "Not all Sororitas have white hair, you know," she indignantly replied. "I like the way it looks. It really stands out."

Stark inclined his head. "May we please get back on topic. We are behind schedule as it is."

The Tech-priest, weighed down by the crate, walked slowly towards the table. He then set the box down next to a seat before sitting down. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor approached his own high-backed throne at the head of the conference table.

The Astarte didn't move from his position, however his head perked up. He could not be accused of inattention.

"Very well," Stark said, sitting down in his throne. He tapped a few buttons on the armrest and the center of the table, which bore the crest of the Inquisition, split in twain and slowly slid aside. Hidden mechanisms groaned in protest as the table's leaves disappeared into hidden compartments, revealing a hidden holo-projector. One more button press dimmed the lights and lit the projector, and a three dimensional image of a planet appeared.

"This is our destination, the third planet in this system," Stark stated. "A miserable, little, barely-habitable rock."

"Question!" Veronica said, raising her hand like she was back at the Schola Progenium. She felt silly for a moment, but Stark acknowledged her with a nod of his head. "When you say barely-habitable..."

"What he means," the Tech-priest interjected, "is that the atmosphere is breathable, but the chemical composition will slowly eat away your lungs. The water is highly acidic as well. You can drink it, but too much will cause chronic ulcers. Also, the wildlife is several varieties of big, carnivorous, and highly aggressive."

Veronica scoffed. "You could've just said it was a death world and saved us all some time."

"The point," Stark interrupted, "is that we don't want to spend any more time planetside than necessary. Which leads to our objective." Another button press and the image of the planet winked out, and was soon replaced by another image, this one a headshot of of a xenos. An Eldar to be precise. One with golden hair tied in a tight ponytail, and emerald green eyes.

"Farseer Syan," the Inquisitor intoned. "An old acquaintance of mine. For some damn reason she requested a meeting on that miserable little rock we've been orbiting."

"And we're just going to meet with this xenos witch?" Veronica asked incredulously. "If we know where she's going to be, why not just blast the site from orbit?"

It was the Marine who answered, his voice as hard as granite. "That would be dishonorable."

"While Leonus is correct," Stark said, "that's not the only reason. Syan is a valuable asset to the Inquisition, and the Imperium at large, by extension. Her warning alone saved countless Human lives when Hive Fleet Kraken attacked Ichar IV. Killing her would be a stupidly short-sighted action."

"And you still owe her a favor," the Tech-Priest added, amused.

Stark rolled his eyes. "Yes, Bob, I owe her a favor. Speaking of which, do you have the merchandise?"

The Tech-Priest, Bob, stood up and, with a grunt of effort, reached down and picked the crate up before dropping it on the table. He paused a moment and, with a flourish, unlatched the crate and flung it open.

"Lasguns?" Leonus asked, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"M35 Galaxy pattern," Bob confirmed. "Standard issue for ninety percent of the Astra Militarum. What an Eldar witch wants with five crates of them, and spare power packs, I couldn't possibly imagine."

"Whatever it is, we can ask her ourselves," Stark said. "But we must hurry. The ship's Astropathic Choir has been acting nervously ever since we transited into this system. Gather what equipment you think you need and meet in shuttlebay three within the hour. I want to be out of this system before whatever's spooked my psykers makes itself known."

* * *

**2185**

**Sahrabrik System, Omega Nebula**

**Aboard _Normandy SR2_**

If anyone had bothered to ask her opinion _,_ Holly Shepard would've told them tha _t_ the new _Normandy_ was a strange ship. She looked like her namesake, no doubt about it, but there were subtle differences. The SR2 was bigger, about twice the size of the original. Although still classified as a Frigate, the new ship really stretched that designation's credibility.

The interior also showed subtle and not-so-subtle signs of divergence. The lighting for one. Shepard never understood why the Alliance insisted on such poorly-lit ships. But the new _Normandy_ was technically a civilian ship, and Shepard loved her well-lit corridors.

Her origins as a civilian ship showed in other areas too. The crew had actual quarters this time. None of the ship's personnel had to sleep in those cramped sleeper pods the Alliance used, although the enlisted did have to hot bunk, despite a surfeit of unoccupied rooms. When asked, the XO explained that they were officer's quarters, but due to a lack of actual officers aboard they would be reserved for Shepard's team.

There was a chime over the intercom. "Shepard?" a familiar, accented voice asked.

Shepard bit back a groan. "Yes, what is it Miranda?"

"We're on approach to Omega," Miranda answered. "Docking clearance has been granted, and we should be ready to disembark within the hour"

Holly sighed. "Alright. Thank you for letting me know." She then cut the intercom and cursed to herself.

Miranda was the only thing about the ship that truly bothered Shepard. Like the rest of the crew, she was Cerberus. However most of the _Normandy's_ crew were low-level; people who hadn't completely bought into Cerberus' agenda. Not Miranda. Miranda was as high rank as they got. The right hand of the Illusive Man.

But, despite her misgivings, Shepard owed Miranda her life. Literally. She didn't know just how far gone she was when Miranda brought her back to life. She didn't really want to know.

That was a matter for another day, though. Shepard had a mission to complete, and a Salarian scientist to recruit. Thoughts of mortality could wait til later.

* * *

**957M41**

**Uncharted System: Koronus Expanse**

**Aboard shuttlecraft en-route to unnamed planet**

The shuttlecraft rocked violently as it descended into the planet's atmosphere. Veronica whispered a prayer to the Emperor as she gripped the edge of her seat. She had always hated re-entry. Nothing but a thin layer of metal and ceramic between her and fiery death.

Veronica did not fear death. She knew that, one day, she would likely have to give her life in service to the Emperor. But a senseless death to an accident and not in His name? She feared that.

Her concentration was broken as a massive hand gripped her shoulder, its gentleness belying its owner's strength. By happenstance, she had been seated next to Leonus' custom-built crash-seat. Although he was wearing his black helmet, he still managed to look concerned.

She took a deep breath, calming herself. Before too long, the turbulence subsided and the shuttle's engines engaged. The worst of it was over, and Veronica took the opportunity to recheck her gear.

Her weapons, a bolt pistol and venerable inferno pistol,were both in perfect condition, as expected. The Schola's instructors had drilled her class in proper weapon maintenance until they could all strip, inspect, clean, and reassemble their weapons until they could do it blindfolded. The five spare magazines were still attached to the waist of her armor, and the pouch containing an aditional five mags hung from her right hip. Her chainsword, freshly oiled and fitted with new teeth, dangled in its sheathe off her left hip.

Lastly, she checked her anklet holster to make sure her laspistol was still there. Veronica prayed every day that she would never have to use the holdout weapon, but she kept it fully charged at all times just the same. The only thing left to check now was her seraphim pack, which was currently inaccessible. There was nothing for it but to hope that the old Enginseer back in the ship's armory hadn't neglected it.

There was a solid thunk as the shuttle dropped its cargo; a transport vehicle that Veronica had no time to examine before take-off. Following that, the shuttle's speaker system crackled to life. "Attention," the monotonous voice of a servitor spoke. "We are approaching our landing coordinates. Please be prepared to depart the vessel with utmost haste."

Veronica unlatched her seat's safety mechanism and stood up, followed by the other three passengers. As she stepped towards the rear landing hatch, she was stopped by the Tech-Priest. "Sister," he said. "May I inspect your jump pack."

Without any hesitation, Veronica nodded her acquiescence and turned around. Secretly, she was relieved. It wouldn't do to die from a malfunctioning jump pack, that would just be embarrassing.

It only took him a minute, but eventually Bob patted the Sister on her shoulder, indicating that he was finished. Veronica let go of the breath she was holding, glad that nothing was wrong with her pack, and turned to face the rear-door of the shuttle. Not long after, the craft shuddered and the hatch lowered. The Inquisitor was the first out the door, strapping a breather mask on as he disembarked. Silently cursing to herself, Veronica reached back to her seat and grabbed her own helmet before practically jamming it onto her head. The last thing she wanted was lung damage.

It wasn't long before everyone had disembarked, and the shuttle lifted off again. Leonus, being the strongest by far, had elected to carry the weapon crate. They had landed next to their land transport, and Veronica almost tripped over her own feet once she saw what it was.

"Okay," Veronica said. "I know you're an Inquisitor and all; virtually unlimited resources you can just whistle up from nowhere, but where the hell did you get a Rhino? Those things don't exactly grow on trees."

"It wasn't too difficult," Inquisitor Stark mused. "I requisitioned it from the Arbites on Malfi. There was a troublesome xenotech smuggler that had made his base deep in the desert. It proved so useful that I couldn't bear to part with it."

Veronica was floored. "You _STOLE_ a Rhino from the Adeptus Arbites?" she yelled.

"Of course not," Stark smirked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. "It was heavily damaged over the course of my investigation. I offered to purchase it for a very reasonable price. Imagine my surprise when my ship's Enginseers told me that the damage was merely cosmetic and could patch it up in mere days."

The only thing keeping Veronica's jaw off the ground was her own helmet. She had heard tales of Inquisitor Stark's brashness and cleverness, but conning the Adeptus Arbites was a tremendous feat.

The Inquisitor paused at the rear door of the transport, his amusement palpable. "Do not take too long to collect yourself, my dear. We are on a schedule, after all."

* * *

It didn't take long to reach the rendezvous point. The Rhino transport made quick work cutting through the dense jungle. On the inside, the passengers barely felt the route. Other than the occasional bump from unusually large dips in the terrain, the ride was smooth as can be.

They came to a stop as the jungle turned into foothills, outside of a large clearing. Leonus, manning the pintle-mounted storm bolter, scanned for potential hazards. His powered armor's sensors were tuned for life signs, reasoning that anything living on a death world was innately hostile.

But he saw nothing. At least, he saw no jungle predators capable of swallowing a man whole. He switched scanning modes. There was nothing in the air that was immediately fatal. Even the ever-present toxins were at reduced levels.

"It's clear," he said over comms. The Rhino surged forward yet again. Despite the lack of danger, Leonus kept his head on a swivel, and his fingers on his storm bolter's firing studs. Where Eldar were concerned, things could change rapidly.

The Rhino sped across the rolling hills, throwing up great clouds of dirt and sod along the way. For half an hour the transport sped onwards until, finally, it came to an abrupt stop after cresting one last hill. Inside, Veronica jolted awake, having dozed off a few miles back. Annoyed, she unlatched her seat's harness and stomped towards the front of the vehicle.

Meanwhile, Bob didn't even act like he noticed. The Tech-Priest had been staring at a dataslate since he boarded and had not deigned to look up.

Before Veronica reached the door to the driver' compartment, it swung open to admit the Inquisitor into the passenger compartment. Gone was the resplendent great greatcoat and regal clothing, replaced by woodland-pattern Guardsman fatigues, complete with Imperial Guard carapace armor.

"We've arrived," he said as he walked past, not giving time to question the wardrobe change. Stark approached a cabinet built into the hull of the transport and tapped away at a keypad. With a resounding thunk of bolts sliding free of a lock, the cabinet slowly opened, revealing a pair of weapons that Veronica had never seen the like of before.

They were long, rectangular rifles, painted a shade of yellow-orange. Instead of a traditional pistol-grip, the stock was cut out in the shape of a handle. The Inquisitor pulled out one of the weapons, which had a strange symbol crudely scratched out and the Aquilla stenciled on next to it.

"The frack is that?" Veronica asked.

"Tau pulse rifle," Stark casually replied, earning a horrified gasp from the Sister.

"You are using a xenos weapon?" she hissed, before shooting a glare at the still sitting Tech-Priest. "And you're fine with it?"

Stark laughed. "He personally consecrated both of them." With that, the Inquisitor tossed the second xenos weapon to Bob, who caught it one-handed. Now the Sister could see that same alien symbol, only instead of being scratched out it was covered up with a hand-painted symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Veronica shuddered at such blatant and casual acts of tech-heresy. The fact that it was an Inquisitor and Mechanicus priest performing it did little to assuage her fears. Closing her eyes, she muttered a quick prayer, hoping that His grace would protect her from any corruption.

When she opened her eyes, Veronica uttered a curse as she saw that the Inquisitor and Tech-Priest had left her behind. She was in such a hurry that she nearly bumped into the black armored form of Leonus as she descended the Rhino's loading ramp. With a muttered apology, she dashed towards where the Inquisitor and Tech-Priest had stopped at the base of an alien structure.

At first glance it appeared to be stone, but it was far smoother than any stone structure that Veronica had ever seen. It was built in three layers, each one smaller than the last. A grand staircase led up to the very top of the structure, branching off into separate staircases on each level.

And there, standing atop the first staircase of the ziggurat, was their contact. The Eldar was facing away from the Humans, its golden tresses and yellow robes waving in the breeze. In one hand, the xenos had a spear, taller than it was, planted into the ground. Veronica could also see a pistol of some kind hanging from the witch's belt.

"Greetings Inquisitor," the xenos said, its voice almost musical to Veronica's ears. "You come armed. I thought we had progressed beyond such matters."

Stark gave a short bow. "My apologies, Farseer, but in my experience only a fool trusts an Eldar implicitly, even one who claims only friendship."

The Eldar didn't answer at first; several long moments passed before she spoke. "Yes. An unfortunate truth in these times." She turned around. Veronica fought hard against an involuntary shudder as the xenos gazed at her. "What's this? You added someone to your retinue. A dreamer yet to awaken."

"My employees are not your concern, Syan," Stark firmly said. "Now, I have the merchandise you requested. May I ask what you need them for?"

"That is a difficult question, Inquisitor Stark," Syan said as she began to descend the stairway. To Veronica's eye, the xenos appeared to glide down the many steps. She fought every instinct she had that was telling her to draw her bolt pistol and open fire. She glanced at Leonus, telling herself to follow the lead of the Space Marine.

However, the black-armored Astarte wasn't paying attention to the Eldar. Rather, he was focused on the surrounding ruins, his massive bolter at the ready. Veronica, understanding the wisdom of caution when a Marine had his dander up, undid the straps on her weapon holsters and kept her hands beside them.

"As you are charged with the survival of your species," the Eldar said, "so too have I taken up that mantle."

As Syan got closer to Inquisitor Stark, she gestured around towards the ruins. "This city is ancient, even by the standards of the Eldar. Although abandoned even before Humanity took its first steps out of their cradle, but the inhabitants left behind a secret, buried in the mists of time." In Veronica's mind, the Eldar stopped uncomfortably close to the Inquisitor, but she still took her cue from Leonus, who hadn't even glanced at her. "A Webway gate."

Stark was less than impressed. "Is that it? I was under the impression that the Eldar had ready access to the webway. Why does one gate matter?"

"it is not the gate itself, but rather what's on the other side," Syan interjected. "What few records we have found indicates that this gateway is unique. It is... disconnected from the rest of the network. It only has a single destination."

That seemed to pique the Inquisitor's curiosity. "And where does it lead to?"

"I am... unsure," Cyan admitted. "I have yet to traverse it, yet every Path that I have seen indicates that what is on the other side is crucial for the survival of my people. I would like to speak more of it, but I am in a hurry. If you would kindly bring the weapons I requested then-"

"Movement!" Before Leonus had finished speaking, Veronica drew her weapons and was aiming at the beast that had appeared from the ruins. Although she had never seen one before, she instantly recognized the Tyranid monstrosity charging at the Inquisitor. A Lictor, if she remembered her classes at the Schola correctly.

She and Leonus opened fire, the thunderous roar of bolter fire piercing the air. But the beast was too fast. Veronica's first few shots merely glanced off its chitinous plates. Leonus was luckier; one bolt struck flesh, but only grazed it, barely seeming to annoy the creature. Within seconds, it had reached its target and swiped a claw at the Eldar, who barely dodged out of the way.

Inquisitor Stark wasn't so lucky. He was caught flat-footed, and he only managed to face the Tyranid bio-form in time for one of its scything talons to pierce his chest, straight through his armor and out the back. Almost casually, the Lictor tossed the Inquisitor's body over its shoulder.

Bob, having fallen back, raised his xenos-made weapon and fired. The small plasma bolt singed the Lictor's face, blackening its pale flesh.

Veronica kept firing until her bolt pistol went click. She was about to switch to her melta when the Eldar acted. A column of purple-tinged fire shot up from under the beast. The creature shrieked in pain, forcing Veronica to drop her weapons and cover her ears.

Leonus had no such problem. His helmet's audio filters dampened the noise sufficiently. When the warp fire died down, he saw that it had knocked a few armored plates loose. He took careful aim and fired a burst. The rounds penetrated the Lictor's soft flesh and detonated, tearing great bloody chunks free. With one last gurgle, the monster slumped down, finally dead.

Syan then approached its corpse and, in one swift motion, lopped of its head with her spear. Veronica was sorely tempted to put a few rounds in the thing as well, but stayed her hand. She would not embarrass herself with such weak discipline. Bob, however, had more important concerns. He sprinted past Syan, not even sparing her a glance, and knelt by the body of the Inquisitor.

Snapping back into focus, Veronica sprinted after him. Bu it was all for naught. As she approached, Bob stood up, looked at her, and shook his head. "Damn thing went straight through his heart," Bob said. "He died instantly, at least." He then bent over and picked up Stark's weapon, or, at least, the remains of it. Whether the Tyranid's atteack went through it or it broke on impact with the ground, the xenos-made rifle was snapped in half, beyond repair. "Worthless!" Bob spat in disgust as he threw the remains of the weapon on the ground.

"I'm sorry," Syan said, startling Veronica. She had approached while the Sister and Bob were busy examining Stark's corpse. "He did not deserve this fate."

Veronica didn't even think; only acted. She slammed the Eldar with a wicked right hook, knocking the witch to the ground. In a flash she leveled her bolt pistol with Syan's head.

"Sister, stop!" Leonus shouted.

"She knew this would happen!" Veronica replied. "She knew Stark would die!"

"Be reasonable, Veronica," Leonus said calmly. "Now, what makes you think Syan set us up?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Veronica scoffed. "This xenos witch asked for five crates of lasguns. Five! How the hell was she planing on hauling them through this webway hof hers? I don't see any transport!"

"I'm sure there's an explanation for that," Leonus countered, "but killing the Eldar won't accomplish anything."

"It'll make me feel better!" Veronica snapped.

"Uh... guys," Bob said, When the others looked to him, he simply pointed skywards. Veronica paled at what she saw; wave upon wave of spore pods descending from space.

There were thousands, millions, dropping all around. No matter where she turned, there was no end to them. Some broke apart in the air, only to spit out Hive Crones and Harridans.

"By the Throne," Leonus breathed.

"What the hell are they doing here?" Veronica asked, not believing her eyes. 'I thought the Tyranids only landed on populated worlds."

"A common misconception," Bob answered. "Tyranids do prefer to eat sentient life, but they'll stop at any planet with a biosphere, especially if it's a splinter fleet. They'll strip this planet of anything organic, even consuming the soil down to bedrock."

"We have to get out of here!" Veronica practically shouted. "Call the ship, get them to send-"

"Not happening," Leonus interrupted. "There is no way the ship's still around. They either fled when they realized a Hive Fleet was approaching, or they were destroyed."

Veronica was about to protest the Marine's words, but knew deep down that he was correct. There was no way their one ship could stand up to even a small splinter fleet. Help was not coming. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to pray for deliverance.

She had not uttered a single syllable when the Eldar spoke.

"You need not die this day," she said, a study in tranquility despite having Veronica's boot planted on her sternum. "Martyring yourselves here would be worthless."

Bob caught on first, red eyes lighting up under his hood. "The gate. We can escape through there."

"Won't be much of an escape," Leonus noted. "Lictors leave a pheromone trail that other Tyranids follow. They'll find the gate and just swarm inside."

Syan scoffed. "Closing the Nexus from the other side is a simple matter. But I am the only one who can do so."

Veronica was torn. She wanted the Eldar bitch dead. She was responsible for getting her superior killed. She was responsible for stranding them on this death world about to be eaten by Tyranids. Veronica was not afraid to die, but the Eldar was right about one thing. Dying here would serve no purpose.

"How do we know we can trust you," she asked, voice barely audible.

"You can not know," Syan replied.

Veronica held her gaze for a moment more, before lowering her weapon and stepping off of the xenos. "Fine," she grumbled. "Not like I was going to shoot you with an empty magazine anyways..."

Syan stood up and dusted herself off, before drawing... something from her robes and casually tossing it to Leonus. He caught it with ease and examined the object. It was a cube, about the size of a human fist. Leonus only looked at it for a moment before he chuckled to himself.

"A tesseract labyrinth," he said, amused. "Now where did you get this?"

"Traded it, for a number of trinkets I cared not for," Syan replied. "But we do not have the time for this prattling. We must make for the gate, and swiftly." A great howling shriek punctuated her words. The survivors quickly salvaged what they could. Bob grabbed Inquisitor Stark's body and left the shattered remains of his weapon behind. Veronica raised an eyebrow at this atypical behavior, but said nothing. She merely reloaded her pistol and followed the Eldar to the Rhino, with Leonus bringing up the rear.

Bob dropped the body in the middle of the troop compartment before dashing for the driver's seat. Everyone else gingerly stepped over it as Bob cranked the engines. Leonus just managed to close the rear hatch as Bob began to speed away. The Rhino hit the steps of the ziggurat at full speed, the treads tearing up the ancient stone structure as the vehicle climbed. As he crested the top of the stairs, Bob saw what could only be the gate. It was massive; easily wide enough to drive a Baneblade through, let alone his Rhino, and scintillating with energy bright enough to blind, even through his goggles' filters.

Without hesitation, Bob slammed the throttle to full, and the transport disappeared through the portal in mere moments.

The swarm, following the Lictor's pheromone trail, would find naught but a dead Lictor, some tracks, and the faint scent of prey. Their shriek of rage could be heard for miles, were there any around to hear it. Meat had managed to escape.

* * *

 

**AUTHOR's Notes:  Hello everybody and welcome to my brand new story.  First of all, let's be clear with one thing.  Yes, this story takes heavy inspiration from Broken Trident's "The Mission Stays the Same", which was tragically discontinued almost three years ago.  I will try not to retread old ground, but some things are gonna be very similar.**

**The original plan was to have everyone on the 40k side survive, but I couldn't think of anything Stark could contribute to Shepard's team, so I had to get rid of him.  Hell, Bob the Tech Priest was almost a casualty, but I figured out a way to keep him around and relevant (beyond being the tech monkey)**


End file.
